breakbeat bluegrass tremble moo no


breakbeat is arrhythmia…
as flushed covey quail
on tiny speed blurred feet
mottled… plump beneath
vaguely Egyptian topknots;
they tremble in their dash

is silver Dobro hover slip
in a make up bluegrass band
at Wednesday music church

is their backcountry spillsplash
fiddle…lemon yellow flash
banjo… copper blood orange bright
bass…tobacco midnight blue

breakbeat…abrupt heart murmur
we’re this and now we’re that
out in…in out of God
out in…in out of love
out in…in out of innocence


Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Carol Nelson


14 thoughts on “breakbeat bluegrass tremble moo no

  1. wonderful, bonnie. your poem takes the reader through a delightful experience, mostly “upbeat” until the final stanza. and i guess there must always be a final stanza, because of arrhythmia or heart murmur or something else. but thank goodness for the quail, silver Dobros, spillsplash fiddles, and poets who touch us along the way.

  2. Your title is often the cadence of my heartbeat as my neighbor across the street banjoes through the hours of the afternoon evening sometimes even sky dark. And on the corner the Trinity Methodist bible belts tolerantly allowing me to park my car there off the street and in their lot.
    Your poem Bonnie, ah your poem….. Thank you ! just the splillsplash any day

    1. I feature bluegrass in some of my poetry because I lived in North Carolina and went to an old barn and sat on a hay bail to hear great bands until early in the morning. Love it.

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